


Things I'll (Never) Say to You

by ABookAndACoffee



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, NSFW, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABookAndACoffee/pseuds/ABookAndACoffee
Summary: This fic was born from the dialogue prompt "Why do you only kiss me when I'm sleeping?" for Amren and Elain. The two have been seeing each other for months when Elain finally asks Amren why she doesn't seem to want to admit how she feels.“'Don’t you take me, though? Don’t you have me?' Elain’s voice becomes smaller than she knew possible. She has spent a lifetime being what everyone else needed, and the shrinking of her voice grates on her own nerves; she knows that what she needs to be now is larger, to be whole and complete and perhaps what someone else will want. Not just what they need. Being what others need, that is what she has been useful for. What she is expert in. To be desired, not necessary, this is something different. It’s something new, and the potential is intoxicating. This is what she experiences with Amren and what she wants to continue experiencing."





	Things I'll (Never) Say to You

Turning on her side, Amren brushes a stray lock of hair from Elain’s face. The half light of a late winter afternoon casts them both in gold, somewhere in between day and night, sleep and wake. Elain watches as Amren pulls her hand away, smiles softly as she rests her palm on the space of the bed between them. The cotton shifts under the slight weight of Amren’s hand and she waits for Elain’s hand to join it. When she obliges, the two women look at each other. 

In placing her hand over Amren’s, Elain uses hardly any pressure, allowing enough room so that either of them can move away if they need. It’s a question, and she reads the answer as affirmative when Amren hooks her thumb around her own, caressing it and pulling her closer. She moves in for a kiss, but Amren shifts just far enough away so that their lips will never connect, her head nearly leaving her pillow. Elain blushes at the rebuke, but keeps her position inches away, close enough to feel breath on her cheek. 

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” she asks, all red, swollen lips and doe eyes. The rumpled sheets around her imply a day spent lazily enjoying one another. 

Amren reaches up to trace the cheekbone she knows so well before caressing Elain’s bottom lip with her thumb. There is an answer to this question, one that Elain isn’t ready for. They have been meeting like this, in secret, for months now. Amren plans on this being the last time. 

The first time, they had been left alone in the cabin, Amren guarding the newly-Made and still-fragile Elain. Her powers had allowed her some insight into what Amren wanted, but not enough to know whether or not she should keep from running headlong into this affair. She knew what she wanted, too, and that the ability to make a choice in the moment was nearly as much of a motivating factor as the curiosity she had about the delicate, ancient being. Choice was a precious commodity in Elain’s life recently, and so she seized it when she got the chance. 

The first time, Elain had been bold. Approaching Amren had only taken the courage of one glass of wine, unaccustomed as she was to drink. And Amren’s initial mistrust of Elain’s intentions had her giggling, until the warmth of Amren’s pulse beneath her fingers reminded her of what it was she had crossed the room for. 

Since that time they have met as often as possible, finding excuses to get away, to come together; training, working, learning, if Amren has a reason to pull Elain away from her sisters, she finds it, and Elain in turn maneuvers her life to create empty spaces. They fill these spaces with long afternoons and soft, worn sheets and the delicate lace that Amren loves to see her dressed in. 

And still, Elain’s question hung in the air between them. 

“Because you are not mine, dearest. You cannot be mine, until that tie going from your rib to his is severed.” Amren gets up from the bed and sits in a chair near the window. The light of the room fails to penetrate the deep red of the liquid in her glass, but Elain does not avert her eyes as she drinks. 

“Don’t you take me, though? Don’t you have me?” Elain’s voice becomes smaller than she knew possible. She has spent a lifetime being what everyone else needed, and the shrinking of her voice grates on her own nerves; she knows that what she needs to be now is larger, to be whole and complete and perhaps what someone else will want. Not just what they need. Being what others need, that is what she has been useful for. What she is expert in. To be desired, not necessary, this is something different. It’s something new, and the potential is intoxicating. This is what she experiences with Amren and what she wants to continue experiencing. 

“Of course. Every night. Every morning. And all the moments in between. I will have you. But I can’t keep you.” Amren lifts her hand, motioning towards the bed. “This is temporary. It all starts to seem temporary, after a while. But a kiss?” She stops herself. 

“And what does a kiss do? Why does it have to signify anything?” Elain knows the answer to this question. She knows what Amren will say. There is nothing she can do to stop the progress, the natural path of this conversation. 

For months, they have been meeting. Elain’s shy glances had not captured Amren’s interest until they found themselves alone, until she had shown herself more than willing to throw herself into an affair that no one else expected. Least of all herself. And the moment that she tasted what Elain had to offer, Amren knew she was lost. So she pretended not to be. She still pretends. 

Amren sighs. “It means that you are mine, that I am yours, and if we - if I take this step, then I’ll be lost, dearest.” She approaches the bed, leaning over Elain enough so that she has to fall back against the pillows. With the tip of her finger she traces the familiar curve of Elain’s rose-tinted mouth. Her lips part in protest, in anticipation, wondering if this might be the time when Amren’s resolve finally breaks. 

Standing, Amren turns her back to Elain. “Do you know that I was not in this form originally? I chose it,” she says. 

Elain shakes her head. “I heard from Feyre. Some things, but not really enough.” She has known so little of the world, really. She knows stories from childhood, stories meant to frighten and intimidate children into keeping away from the wall. She wonders how much of it was truth, now. Now that she is one of them. 

Sometimes she thinks it is impossible that she could belong to this world, how she could ever presume to be more than she was. There had been a plan; live in her home with her family, marry, have children. Human, of course. And that… it was all blown to hell with the reckless opportunism of Ianthe and now… Elain wonders what she has left of value. It was supposed to be enough, and now she finds herself chaffing at any thought of restriction and wanting things she had never considered before. The possibility of deciding for herself terrifies her as much as excites her, and she looks up at Amren, the first thing in her life she was not sure of, but pursued nonetheless. 

Amren turns and strolls back to the opposite side of the bed, her eyes taking on a familiar shadowed quality, her pupils wide. She pulls the sheets back from Elain before joining her. There is nothing she hasn’t seen before; the familiar pale creaminess, utterly unmarked by any sort of trauma. Despite what the Made woman has been through, Elain has managed to escape practically unmarred, and Amren takes in the smooth expanse of skin. 

“What I was, it doesn’t matter,” Amren says. “And what you are, has less meaning.” Elain looks hopeful, but only for a moment. 

“What matters is that you belong to him,” Amren continues. “In any form, whatever you are. There is a tie that binds you, and I wouldn’t sunder it. I know what horrible things happen to those who try.” 

Elain protests. “I didn’t chose this. It was chosen for me. I have no need of this.” She gestures to the space below her breast, where she feels the pull. 

Amren cocks her head. 

“Of course I care for him. I think a part of me always will. But love?” Elain shakes her head. “That’s for you.” 

Amren nods. “Then prove it.” 

Elain’s response is startled; she has never expected to be challenged to show that she means what she has said, but this has emboldened her. She pulls Amren to her, placing a kiss first on her chin, then her neck, and lower, tracing the line of her collarbone. These are familiar patterns, ones that she has memorized and then replayed in her head ever since the first time she saw Amren. 

And no one suspects. No one ever cares that she, Elain, of all of them, might be most drawn to Amren. That they might be fascinated by one another is never a thought because the rest of them are still so taken by their own changes. Nothing would make them understand the possibility, that these two women have created something wholly new between them. 

Elain pushes Amren onto her back before getting on her hands and knees. Her messy braid hangs over her shoulder and brushes Amren’s breasts, her stomach, as she positions herself, knees on either side of Amren’s hips. 

Elain’s intent expression runs counter to the amusement on Amren’s face, as if she has been issued a challenge. And she intends to meet it. 

Without preamble, she takes one of Amren’s nipples between her teeth, flicking with her tongue and groaning into her skin and Amren arches into her mouth despite herself. She tries to pull Elain down to meet her, pressed against one another fully, but she refuses, staying on her knees. Elain knows that the press of her weight on Amren is something reassuring, comforting, and she doesn’t want to allow it. Yet. She grabs the wrist of the hand Amren is using to coax her hips downward and pins it next to her head, pressing it against the pillow perhaps a bit harder than she intended. But there is no going back. 

Elain moves to her other breast, just as peaked as the one before, every bit of skin and how Amren will react to it familiar. When she releases her nipple she places soft kisses on the delicate skin of the underside of her breast, moving her lips until they are resting in the space between them. She does not change the pressure, does not move, merely breathes there, letting her lips rest in this position. 

This place, underneath which Amren’s heart beats, is Elain’s favorite. She could pass days there, feeling the warmth, mapping the way that her breasts swell from the spot, the small hollow that nearly disappears when she is lying down, listening to the steady rhythm that she can change and control with certain touches. 

Her cunt is too far away for Amren to reach, but she knows how wet Elain is, how much she is aching to be touched, even if she holds herself apart. For now. To her disappointment, Elain pulls herself further away, sliding down the bed. She continues until she is standing at the foot of the bed, watching Amren with amusement as she sits up on her elbows. 

“I thought I told you to prove something to me?” Amren says, her breath catching. 

Elain places her hands on Amren’s ankles and pulls. She falls back and lets her arms trail behind her on the bed, smiling to herself that she should have known better. Of course Elain wasn’t done with her. She is forever underestimating this woman, and it’s always to her benefit. 

It doesn’t take much effort for Elain to pull Amren to the foot of the bed, still on her back, but her legs dangling off the end. She makes space for herself between her knees, leaning over and tracing a finger from Amren’s lips, down, until her fingers find their way between her legs. But just for a moment. Amren makes a sound of protest when Elain pulls herself away, but quickly bites her tongue when she sees her drop to her knees. 

Elain is on her knees in front of Amren, but they both know who has the power right now. She runs her hands up Amren’s bare thighs, skin that prickles in anticipation, to be laid out bare like this in front of Elain. And Elain, who again relishes the control, feels near to orgasm just from the sight of her dripping wet cunt in front of her mouth. But she holds off, tracing her mouth, the mouth that Amren refuses to kiss, along soft inner thighs that beg to be bitten, alternatively worshipped and marked. 

Elain takes her time, waiting until Amren is begging before she touches her tongue to her clit, waits until Amren is again pleading and clinging to the sheets before she enters her with her tongue, then her fingers. Her thighs slide from the slight shoulders they are perched on and Elain grabs one of them, pressing her fingers into the skin as she works Amren to her orgasm, refusing to let her be content with one and continuing the steady rhythm of her tongue until she is screaming again, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other trying desperately to hold Elain’s head in place rather than control her motions. 

When they are both done, Elain releases Amren’s thigh, pushing herself up so they are lying together again on the bed. 

“And now?” she asks. “Have I proven myself? I only belong to myself, but I can keep burying my tongue in your cunt until you believe me.” She blushes slightly at the words she is using, but keeps her gaze steadily on Amren. 

“Perhaps.” 

Elain sits up on one elbow, eyebrow raised. 

“Why did you chose me? Why did you want me?” Elain asks. 

“Sometimes I like something different,” Amren says with a shrug. “And you. I’d never had you before. Never had someone else who was Made.” 

Elain’s eyes narrow. “That’s not true.” She rises from the bed and stands at the side of it, hovering over Amren as if the few inches she has on the other woman are any matter. She is surprised when Amren throws back her head and laughs. 

“Elain, dearest, are you trying to intimidate me?” 

“Tell me. The real reason why you won’t kiss me. Do you not…” Elain’s voice cracks and she fists her hands at her side, determined to leave this part of her behind, for once, if just for this moment. 

Amren sits up and pulls on Elain’s arm, forcing them to sit next to one another. “Elain, dearest, I do love you.” Elain shifts forward in a move that would be imperceptible to most people, those who aren’t familiar with the way her body can give away how she feels. Amren notes the enthusiasm immediately. She places a hand on Elain’s knee. 

“If we do this, it will not be easy. None of it. There is Lucien, and your sisters. And the thing you have, there-” Amren places the tip of her finger on Elain’s rib, the exact spot where the tie connects them. “-It will always be a part of your life. No matter how far you try to push it into the past.” 

Elain’s face darkens, already rebelling at the idea that this is yet one more bit of her life that has been determined for her. “I choose you.” 

“Yes. You choose me today. But you see, I only have to choose you once, and you know that nothing else will affect it. Affect my wanting you. But because of him, you must do this every day, every time you decide to come to my bed instead of his.” 

Elain takes Amren’s face between her hands and places a small kiss on her lips, which Amren finally allows. “And I will. Every single day. Again and again.”


End file.
